It’s Sunday. I’ve slept in and ignored church. Somewhere the devil is sitting and clicking on “Like”.

There’s nothing better than knowing that you don’t have to set an alarm clock for the next day.

Of course the laundry has to be done, but the wine doesn’t drink itself either.

Not all works of art are in a museum. I, for example, am lying on the couch at home.

The 10 minutes I spend on my mobile before I go to sleep are the best 3 hours of my day.

You know when you have so much to do that you just sit down and do nothing?

Couldn’t afford a man cave. Had to settle for a gazebro.

I made coffee and carried it to the couch. I’ve done everything I had planned for this Sunday.

Taking the day off to brush up on conspiracy theories and really get this Thanksgiving party started.

Being abducted by aliens could be just the vacation I need right now.

If I could be in two places at once, I’d be in bed twice.

Forget carrying me to bed; carry me to the end of the workweek. Then we can talk.

I’m now at the age where happy hour is a nap.

This year I’d like an advent calendar with 24 different tranquilizers.

I would like to have the peace of mind of a cow. I already have the body.

Sunday is my favorite day where I pretend I’m going to do something productive.

I need a massage for my brain.

I like to push myself out of my comfort zone by sometimes sitting on the other end of my sofa.

Eatіng іn bed іs much better. Everythіng’s a napkіn.

We can put a man on the moon but we can’t find a good way to drink wine from a lying down position.